


Dichotomy Paradox

by webcricket



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 16:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10701063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webcricket/pseuds/webcricket
Summary: 1st Cas-iversary Celebration drabble request by @dont-trust-humanity – “It would be wonderful if you could write a bit the day after Cas and the reader had sex for the first time together and he is very cuddly and Sam and Dean are kinda acting awkward because of the huge amount of physical affection Cas is showing.” Oh I do love an exasperated Winchester (obviously Dean most of all, cause you know Sam is the super supportive bro) and a touchy feely angel – please enjoy the fluff! Glossed over mentions of adult situations.





	Dichotomy Paradox

Not so much as a hair’s breadth of space had separated you and Castiel since you amorously fell into each other’s arms last night. The way he made love to you for the first time felt like worship - the angel tantalizing every inch of your suppliant body with the reverent caress of hands and fingers, at first careful in his touch, as though you might break from the sheer force of his love, then exploring you unrelentingly with his lips and tongue, lifting you to extreme heights of bliss with his grace, finally allowing you to assuage the physical needs of his own vessel before you both succumbed to exhaustion. You gave yourself up entirely to the angel, and he held nothing back. You were his now - his human, his love, and he had no intention of ever letting you go.

Meandering through the halls of the bunker, en route to the kitchen in search of sustenance to fortify your energy, the smitten angel rested a palm on the slope of your hip, bending to pepper your shoulder and neck with delicate kisses, fingertips kneading into the soft flesh of your curves to remind you of his devotion. The squeal of pure joy elicited from your throat as his chin tickled your neck was one of the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard and his reciprocal pleased grunts of laughter puffed hot against your skin.

Sam and Dean gaped up mid-chew from their cereal bowls as you and the angel spilled across the kitchen threshold – indistinguishable as singular entities in a tangle of loose limbs, messy hair, rumpled half buttoned shirts, and bubbling fits of laughter. The brothers exchanged a curious glance - Sam arching an amused eyebrow and Dean convulsing his mouth in an overt manifestation of disgust suggesting he’d bitten into something extremely tart.

Sam smirked, choking on a laugh, perpetually entertained by his brother’s over-the-top reactive nature.

“Get a room,” Dean coughed harshly under his breath.

Cas broke off the veneration he was bestowing upon your pulse point with his mouth long enough to peer up at the elder Winchester, his blue eyes blown dark with lust as they narrowed in bewilderment, “We have a room.”

Winding your arms about the angel’s neck, compelling him to ignore Dean’s typically reproaching response, you drew him down into a breathless kiss - you couldn’t care less who saw the two of you or what they thought.

Dean glared exasperatedly at his brother over your impertinence while shoveling a soggy spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

Sam subdued a widening grin, clearing his throat, tone mockingly serious, “Hey Cas, uh, don’t you think you’re taking this whole two bodies becoming one thing a bit far?”

“Yeah, dude, give her some air,” Dean huffed agreement, wrongly assuming his brother was taking his viewpoint.

Cas responded to them only when you gasped for air and dizzily collapsed against his chest. His focus bounced questioningly between the two brothers before settling askew on your blissfully intoxicated countenance, “Y/N, is my proximity affecting your ability to breath?”

“Not even a little bit,” you shook your head, rising up on your toes to peck a feather light kiss to the angel’s tensed lips, igniting a smile on his concerned aspect, erasing the worried line furrowing his brow.

Cas again assailed your invitingly parted mouth with pliant lips, angling sideways, nose crushing into your cheek as he deepened the kiss, tongue mingling sweetly with yours.

Dean groaned exaggeratedly in answer to the action, “Ever hear the expression _drowning someone in love_?”

Cas promptly released your mouth, directing his attention back to Dean despite your whimper of protest, stating matter-of-factly, “Dean, you can no more _drown someone in love_ than you can _kill them with kindness_.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Dean scoffed.

Giving up on silently disregarding Dean, you spun in the angel’s warm embrace, snapping defensively, “Geez Dean, you’re awfully touchy this morning.”

“I’m touchy? Compared to who? The handsiest angel in the garrison over there? That’s freaking hilarious,” Dean sneered.

You took a menacing step toward the smug-faced brother, Cas grasping your wrist to hold you back, “Cas and I showing each other affection never bothered you before, what gives?”

Dean pursed his lips, shifting to recline speculatively in his chair, “Well before you never kept me up all night screaming _my God_ like a broken record.”

Mug held to his lips, mid-sip, Sam sputtered coffee into his lap.

“We’ve met God, and Cas ain’t him,” Dean’s mouth pressed arrogantly into a thin line, over-pleased with the soundness of his reasoning, “right Sammy?” Dean eyed his brother expectantly for support.

Sam stared back, wide-eyed, offering no comment.

Dean scowled, silently signaling extreme disappointment at his brother with a derisively wrinkled brow.

“I know Cas isn’t God,” you retorted, eyes twinkling impishly, waiting for Dean to look at you as a sultry grin extended over your features, “but if you knew the exquisite things this angel can do with his grace you’d be thanking God over and over again too.”

Cas beamed proudly, snaking the rough pads of his fingertips beneath the hem of your shirt, fingers gliding and stretching across your abdomen to snuggle you tightly backward to his broad chest as your frame trembled with triumphant glee at Dean’s increasingly sour expression.

Sam snorted, pinching his jaw, endeavoring to keep a straight face, unabashedly joining you in hopes of riling Dean up even more, “He’s, uh, he’s not using his grace right now, is he?”

“Please don’t answer that,” Dean fidgeted uncomfortably, crossing his arms.

Observing Sam’s stifled snickering, you continued goading Dean on, “And let’s not leave out the alluring trappings of an exceptionally well-endowed vessel on top of that…or underneath it, or between, or from behind - you get the general idea.”

Cas’ cheeks bashfully glowed rose red at your boasting as he nuzzled his chin in the crook of your neck.

“And there goes my appetite,” Dean groaned, shoving his bowl away, milk sloshing over the edge.

Reaching back to card your fingers through the angel’s hair, you dissolved into another giddy spasm of squeals as his bristled jaw tickled your skin.

Dean intently studied the spreading pool of milk beneath his discarded bowl, too distracted by your infatuated display in the periphery of his vision to formulate a witty comeback. Frustration building, he sprang to his feet, radiating annoyance in waves.

Sam visibly flinched.

Attempting to allay Dean’s irritation, Cas spoke up, “Dean, I don’t understand how seeing Y/N and I show our fondness for one another is any different from those animated videos you watch.”

“He has a point,” Sam nodded, voice mediating, shrugging at his brother.

Dean defeatedly threw his arms in the air, “Great, so you’re on Casanova’s side now?”

“I’m happy for them,” Sam smiled sincerely at you and the angel, chiding his brother, “Plus, the way I see it, this is payback for all those times I had to sleep in the Impala when you came crawling back to the motel room with a date and no vacancy.”

“That never happened,” Dean rolled his eyes, sinking back into the chair.

“That happened all the time,” Sam countered, leaning forward on his elbows.

Dean’s aggravated mien relaxed as he recounted his memories, a self-satisfied smirk sprawling across his features as the tension fled the room, “Yeah it did, didn’t it? What the hell happened to my sense of romance?”

“Well, hell, for one,” Cas calmly offered, not understanding why you and the brothers burst into a shared round of raucous laughter.


End file.
